


The Sweet, Simple Things of Life

by qaffangyrl



Series: That Such Men Lived [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky and Steve are two dorks in love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lots of goats, M/M, Top Bucky Barnes, Vegetarian Bucky Barnes, angsty conversation, did I mention there's a hover bike?, romantic sexy times, vague mentions of past torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 06:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qaffangyrl/pseuds/qaffangyrl
Summary: In which Bucky and Steve finally have a moment of peace together on a Wakandan goat farm.Steve’s pupils are blown wide with desire. He reaches up from the mat he’s lying back on, “C’mere”In an instant Bucky is by his side.





	1. CH 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to prepping for this fic I now know more about milk goat farming and African vegetarian diets than I ever thought I would need to know. :) 
> 
> Title inspired by: 
> 
> “It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.”  
> \-- Laura Ingalls Wilder

**April 2017 – Bucky’s Dairy Goat Farm, Merchant Tribe lands- Wakanda**

Bucky is, honest to God, nervous. It’s still strange putting a name to his emotions.  For so long he felt nothing but a numbness inside himself— likely brought on by sheer survival instincts. It was the only way his mind had survived seven decades of violation and torture.  But, recognizing what he feels is now part of his daily ritual. Each morning as he balms the teats of the does in his herd Bucky makes a list of his emotions. He says them out loud, “I am nervous. I am excited. And…” Bucky struggles with the one emotion that’s always with him. It hurts to say it. Dr. M’gaou, the healer who has been treating him for the last four months, always reminds him, “that of which you cannot speak has power over you. If you truly seek to gain control of your spirit, you must demystify all that makes your heart heavy and embrace all that makes your heart light.”

“…I am guilty,” Bucky states. The words burn his throat. He accepts the taste of bile as a deserved punishment. Thankfully, he’s able to shake himself out of the moment when he catches the eyes of a hungry newborn kid— a runt who is waiting for Bucky to finish tending to the doe so it can suckle. Bucky brushes his hand over the kid’s head and steps out of its way, “There you go buddy. Breakfast time for you.”  Bucky tacks one more emotion that comes to him at the moment. “I am happy.”

The nerves, excitement and happiness are all brought on by the same thing. Steve will be back tonight.  He’s been gone for forty-two days— the longest stretch away from Wakanda since Bucky came out of stasis. Usually he goes seventeen days out, then seventy two hours back in Wakanda on leave. But, this last trip was different. Steve and his team went to help Romanoff repay a debt to someone in Ukraine. Steve hadn’t said much about it other than they’d be deep cover, incommunicado and something about a need to get red out of a ledger. Bucky never asks for details, but usually Steve’s able to send word each night that all’s well. Six weeks with no contact has been rough. And during that time so much has changed.

Bucky’s moved from the small lakefront village outside of the capital city where he’d been working on his recovery in daily sessions with Dr M’gaou to his own parcel of land. T’Challa had told him, “Mother Wakanda will give you all that you need and should the day come when Wakanda needs you, I ask that you will come to her aide.” The king then allotted him a full acre complete with a round house with a freshly thatched roof, a well, a stone oven fire pit, six demanding, very pregnant does, and one ornery billy.

Just two days ago, Bucky had successfully delivered triplets. He’d almost lost the, runt but after sixteen hours straight of swaddling the tiny goat up against his chest and feeding drops of milk to it by hand the little guy had come around. Now, he’s acting like he’s running the place— bossing around his big brothers and holding his own against them during feeding time. Bucky want to tell Steve all of this. He has so much to say. Now, it’s just a matter of not losing his nerve.

Awkward, isn’t the right word to describe how things have been between Bucky and Steve. Careful maybe? Like they both have been trying too hard not to overstep? Perhaps. The kisses they’d shared after they finally stopped being idiots and admitted their feelings for each other is where they’d stopped. During Steve’s last three visits he’d stayed at the palace while Bucky stayed in the hut he was living in outside of the city. Steve always walked Bucky home, kissed him goodnight and left him at the door. Bucky laughs to himself as he thinks about it, Steve is being a gentleman. And Bucky understands. He gets that Steve is the last person who’d try to take advantage. But Bucky has been worrying that maybe Steve wants something he can’t give him. Bucky’s always been by Steve’s side, he’s always had his back, especially in battle. And the war hasn’t ended for Steve. But Bucky doesn’t have the stomach for it anymore. Literally.

Maybe that change in him has changed things for Steve as well? Bucky really hopes that’s not what’s going on. Time to stop wondering and just talk to Steve. Despite evidence to the contrary they’re not going to live forever. Bucky’s reminds himself of what M’gaou told him during their last session. “Best not to take the gift of time for granted. Our stories can end in the most unexpected of ways. One day we are blood and flesh and sinew and bone, the next day we are dust.”

***

Bucky slows his hover bike as he approaches the edge of the dome near barrier twenty-eight. Once stopped, he adjusts the bright red fabric of his Shuka a bit. It’s taking some getting used to forgoing trousers for traditional tribal garb. But he’s proud to wear it too. Especially the scarf that drapes his left shoulder— a symbol that he lives under the protection of the king. For now, he’s wearing red and blue. Symbols for courage and peace Dr. M’gaou had explained. Using color is part of his recovery. As his healing hopefully progresses, the color pallet of his wardrobe will change. All of these small details of his life are things he wants to share with Steve.

“Any time now,” Bucky thinks as he looks out at the lake. Steve had messaged that he’d met his escort in Barunda and they’d be arriving by boat at their usual rendezvous point.  After about ten minutes the small craft comes into view and the barrier’s sensors initiate an opening sequence. Steve is standing on the bow waving. Bucky returns the gesture with a chuckle. Steve is a lot of things, master of stealth? Not so much. As the boat reaches the shore Steve hops out in knee deep water and wades his way up to land where Bucky’s waiting, still seated on his bike.

“Nice ride,” Steve says with a bright smile.

“Hop on big guy,” Bucky answers, matching Steve’s enthusiastic expression. Steve swings his leg over the bike and wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist. Bucky takes a second to enjoy the feeling of Steve’s chest pressed against his back then starts the engine, “Hold tight, I’m gonna open her up and see what this engine can do.”

The bike is amazing. Shuri had given it to him as a house warming gift. “It’s weighted and balanced so you can ride it just right handed. Now you have no excuse not to make it to the palace for movie night!” She’d explained.

“Whatever you say, Doc. You’re the boss,” he’d replied good naturedly. She was just a kid, but he enjoyed her company. They’d been making their way through the Universal monster flicks of the 1930s. It’s nice indulging in something familiar, something that’s survived all these decades just like he has.

Now, on the drive back to his farm, Bucky mulls over what he’s going to say to Steve. He needs know where Steve is in all this. Is it just nostalgia? Is it something new? Bucky doesn’t know what Steve needs from him. At least, however, Bucky’s been able to figure out what he needs from Steve.

***

Bucky watches as Steve blows on a spoonful of stew, “It’s sort of a Wakanda take on my mom's spinach and potato recipe. The greens and roots grow wild here.”

Steve nods and tastes the hot liquid and vegetables. “Not bad,” Steve answers with a note of surprise in his voice.

“The vegetables are better than what we had to get by on in Brooklyn, I think. You really like it?” Bucky asks hopefully. He wouldn’t say it, but he’d been working on the stew all day. Letting it slow cook over just a few smoldering pieces of wood.

“Yeah.” Steve smiles and has another spoonful.

“I’ve been staying away from meat lately, but this is full of protein. And there’s plenty if you need more to get full.”

“It’s really good Buck. Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home cooked meal like this. We’ve been getting by on MREs that Nat has stashed in safe houses all over the place.”

Bucky nods. His heart is caught in his throat. “I feel scared for Steve’s safety” he silently says to himself. He’ll have to add that to his emotional inventory list.

They eat together quietly by the stove as the sun sets. In the distance he hears his goats bleating. The five does that are still pregnant will need an evening meal before he rounds them all up in their pen for the night. Then Bucky’ll have that talk with Steve. Assuming he doesn’t get all yella’ at the last minute.


	2. CH 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky have a much needed conversation (also, sexy times). 
> 
>  
> 
> _Bucky pulls back so he can look at Steve. He needs to see the truth of those words on his face, “I don’t deserve you.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Steve shrugs, “Maybe. But you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”_

Bucky’s bracelet is mostly ornamental except for two actual Kimoyo beads— one for comms and one to manage the tech in his roundhouse. He taps the latter once he and Steve are seated cross-legged on the ground and settled against pillows that line the far wall of the circular room. Instantly, a holo screen listing a number of song titles fills the space in front of them. “Glenn Miller?” Bucky asks.

“Sure,” Steve responds softly as he pulls off his boots and then rests back in just his jeans, a white T-shirt and his socked feet.

“Remember this one? I played it for you that night at the St. Ermin.” Bucky asks. That was the last time they’d had spent a night alone together. Assuming he’s got that part of his timeline straight. He has all his memories back, but more often than not Bucky still has trouble with the order of things.

“Moonlight Serenade. I love this one.”

“You tried to get me drunk, If I recall.” Bucky volleys. He knows his comment breaks the ice when Steve snorts.

“Hey, I'd been in briefings for the past two days. I was trying to get myself drunk too.”

“Speaking of,” Bucky begins as he rises and opens a cupboard next to the doorway, “The Doc cooked this up for me. She says it can withstand our metabolisms.” He crosses the room again and sits back down next to Steve, handing him a small hollowed out, dried gourd.

Steve uncorks it and sniffs, “bathtub gin?”

Bucky shrugs, “She called it medicinal spirits. All I know is it’s not any worse that than shit we swiped from my dad in ninth grade.”

Steve laughs, “Nothing can be that bad!” He takes swig and instantly coughs. “Okay. Shuri knows what’s she’s doing. This stuff packs a wallop.”

Bucky takes the makeshift flask and drinks a healthy gulp. Liquid courage. “Yeah, she does. She and Dr. M’gaou have helped me a lot.”

“I can tell, you look like you’re doing great, Buck. Really.” Steve answers brightly. He pauses a second and bites his lip a bit then says, “And I just want to say I’m really happy you invited me to stay with you this time around.”

Bucky grimaces, “Did you really think you needed an invitation? We’ve been bunking together since grade school.”

Steve shakes his head, “I know. It’s just even with what we said, I didn’t want to make any assumptions. It’s not like I have a lot of experience with dating, you know.”

At that comment Bucky takes the opportunity to ask, “What about the blond, the one in Germany? She must’ve taught you a thing or two.”

“You want the truth?”

No. Bucky thinks. But instead he says, “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t”

“She and I always had bad timing. And that kiss at the airport— If I’m being completely honest it was partly a goodbye to her and partly for your benefit, actually.”

Bucky takes the liquor back from Steve, has another large swig then replies, “Alright, explain that one, Rogers.”

“I was trying to show you that I kept my promise to you. That I had at least been making an effort to have a normal life.”

A sharp pang of guilt hits Bucky, “Until I came back and mucked things up.” This isn’t where he’d planned to take the conversation, but here they are.

Steve sits up on his knees and turns to face Bucky directly, “How could you say that? Finding you in Romania, and knowing that you remembered me— even if you wouldn’t admit— it was the best I’d felt since I came out of the ice.”

Bucky stands and crosses the room, busying himself with swiping off the music screen and activating the holo-locks over the doorway. He keeps his back turned. There’s no way he can look at Steve when he says, “I need to ask you something, and I don’t I want you to pull your punches when you answer.”

“okay.” Steve’s tone indicates that he’s bracing himself.

“If Zemo hadn’t framed me for the bombing, if he hadn’t played that goddamned tape. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have come around over that whole Accords thing? Can you really truly tell me that you and Stark’s kid still wouldn’t be on speaking terms?” Bucky doesn’t turn around. Not even when he feel’s Steve’s hand rest gently on his shoulder.

“Why are you asking me this?”

Bucky turns to face Steve, “Because you look like shit.”

Steve barks out a short startled, laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean it Steve. Sure, you’re all big smiles and easy with the jokes. But I see the circles under your eyes. The untrimmed scruff. And your suit, Jesus Christ, you dyed the red, white and blue?”

“Our ops are stealth!” Steve protests.

“And Romanoff couldn’t find you tac-gear to wear? You threw away your shield Steve. Because of me. Of all the guilt I carry with me, how’m’I supposed to live with that one? Especially, now since I’m---” the words stick in Bucky’s throat.

Softly, Steve asks, “Since you’re what?”

“Since I’m useless. My readiness is compromised. I can’t even catch a damn fish to eat because when I do all I can see is it gasping for its last breath.”

“Buck—”

 Bucky interrupts, “You are out there putting yourself in god knows what kind of danger. And I’ve had to bench myself when I should be batting clean up for you.”

“Take it easy, Buck” Steve tries.

“How can I take it easy. You gave up everything. EVERYTHING. Because of me you’re a man without a country. You don’t even have a home.”

At that comment Steve pulls Bucky into his arms. He holds Bucky tight, burying his face into Bucky’s neck. Then, in a whisper Steve says, “Don’t you know, you moron, you’re my home. You think I have nothing? That’s crazy. I have you.”

Bucky pulls back so he can look at Steve. He needs to see the truth of those words on his face, “I don’t deserve you.”

Steve shrugs, “Maybe. But you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

I feel relieved. Bucky says to himself. That’s not an emotion he’s had in a while, but it’s another one for his inventory. The guilt is still there. One conversation won’t erase that. A thousand won’t. But Bucky doesn’t feel like talking anymore. He’s never been one to initiate so he just looks at Steve with clear eyes and hopes.

At first Steve gives Bucky a knowing smile, but then he says, “All the books say that uh… physical intimacy might uh... complicate things for someone who’s in a recovery process.”

“Yeah, maybe. But Dr. M’gaou keeps telling me that I need to learn to express my wants and needs. Right now, I want you. And I need to get the memories of how I hurt you when I was still under out of my head. I need to touch you, Steve, really touch you.”

***

Bucky sits back on his heels as he watches Steve get himself ready— his fingers disappearing inside himself. “You’re gorgeous”

Steve’s pupils are blown wide with desire. He reaches up from the mat he’s lying back on, “C’mere”

In an instant Bucky is by his side. He’s achingly hard but he wants to take his time. Bucky peppers kisses along Steve’s neck and jaw before he reaches his lips. They play with each other. Little nips and sucks. Sharing each other’s breath. It still feels new for Bucky. He only had Steve once since the serum.  He’s having to relearn Steve’s hard edges and strong curves. He’s pleased to find that Steve’s nipples are just as sensitive as they were before.  So, Bucky makes work of teasing Steve with his tongue. After a couple minutes of which Steve says, “You can take that action a few klicks South, soldier.”

Bucky is happy to oblige, “Sir, yes sir.” He licks his way down Steve’s chest before swallowing the full length of him. Having Steve’s cock in his mouth after so long literally makes Bucky dizzy with pleasure. From the sounds that Steve is making it’s evident he’s feeling exactly the same.

It doesn’t take much longer before all Steve is able to say is, “Buck. I need…”

Bucky sits up reaches for a small pot of salve and slicks himself as Steve rolls onto his side and hitches his knee up to his chest. Bucky stretches out behind Steve and carefully guides himself inside him. He waits a beat then he rests his hand on Steve’s hip and starts to move. His face is buried in Steve’s hairline. The sense memory of Steve’s scent hits Bucky hard and he can remember all the times they’ve been together this way. This time is different though. As he picks up his pace, he tries to work out why it feels different. When Steve leans back and turns his head to kiss Bucky he realizes what it is. All the other times Bucky's own self-loathing had kept him from letting himself feel what he should have known was true from the start. They’d said the words to each other already. But for Bucky to say it to himself, and to know it’s true— that’s something new. Another emotion to add to his inventory— I feel loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Give me your thoughts. I'm essentially trying to fill in the gaps between Civil War end credits and pre-Infinity War. If you have something you want me to address in another ficlet just let me know!


End file.
